Amile The Queen

Chapter Four

***Amile Gumede***

When the cleaning lady arrived, he said it was the perfect time for us to go to the mall. The sun is shining, and we are cruising, listening to good music. He likes laughing, he’s always smiling and being in his company is the most refreshing thing I have ever experienced, and it’s only been three hours since I’ve been with him. He parked the car, and he didn’t move. He didn’t switch off the car. I’m starting to believe he can’t live without the aircon. I wanted to ask what we are waiting for, but I don’t want to be forward. A loud Golf 7 parked next to us and he finally switched off his car. He wore his shades and asked me to stay in the car. Weird.
He didn’t stay too long outside, after a short while, he came to my side to open the door for me, and we walked out. He slowly reached out for my hand, and it intertwined with his. I looked at him in the eyes and smiled.
“Let’s go.”
We walked together and weirdly enough, he still had his shades on, didn’t think of taking them off. The first store he took me to was Armani Exchange, the one right across Versace. I don’t understand what we are doing in such an expensive area of the mall.
“Mr Zulu.” He was welcomed at the door with glasses of champagne for the both of us. Looks like they were expecting us.
“Thank you.” He gave me the glass and we walked into the store.
“I can’t afford any of the things in here.” I whispered to him. He laughed.
“Me too. I just want some sneakers.” I squinted my eyes at him. “What about his and hers?” he asked kissing my cheek.
I melted. That’s the first time he’s made a move without asking. He’s asked for a hug both times and it’s been sweet, but this, this is even sweeter. This is a whole new world.
“Mr Zulu, do you maybe need any assistance?” a lady dressed in black came to us. She looked like the manager.
“She wants something that we can match in. Sneakers please.” I slapped his arms and laughed.
“Hhayi Nkosi.” He laughed at me.
“Right this way sir, ma’am.” This feels so good, it’s like I’m in a movie.
We browsed the sneaker section and all I could see were men’s sneakers, sneakers that would look good on him. Nothing I like. Not that I’m here for myself. I can’t even afford it.
“The men’s sneakers are nice.” I said just loud enough only for him to hear, not the lady that’s already looking at me like I’ll steal something and run away with it.
“I like these for you.” I pointed to one pair. He beamed.
“You know today is about you, right. So what do you like for yourself?” I blushed.
“Well, here nothing.”
“Then why are we still here.” He said and turned around.
“Thank you miss.” He said to the manager and he grabbed my hand and we walked away. I felt embarrassed.
He took out his phone and called someone as we walked out the store.
“Jama, we are going to Dior.” He waited for the person on the other side to hang up before we started walking. People are minding their business, walking around and we are just walking too, in comfortable silence.
We got to Dior and as soon as we walked in, he was welcomed like he was at Armani Exchange. It was a perfume heaven. I looked at him.
“You are famous here?” I asked him.
“No, I’m just a regular customer, nothing much.” He brushed me off.
We went to the counter and he had me tasting a variety of different perfumes for both of us.
“I like this one.” It smelled sweet, and I love sweet perfumes.
“Miss Dior. New to the collection.”
“We’ll get this one and the Sauvage.”
“Yes sir.” They went to the back, and I looked at him.
“How am I going to explain this to my mother.” I asked looking into his eyes. That’s my favorite thing to do. Look into his eyes.
“Say uZulu spoiled you.” I laughed and hit his chest playfully.
“I’ll have to hide this.” I said.
“You certainly can’t hide everything. We aren’t done.” He looked at his wristwatch, “we still have one hour and thirty minutes.”
“Okay Ndabezitha, let’s get moving ke.” I said.
Even a blind man can tell that I am already smitten with him, I don’t know if it’s the money, the spoils or his eyes. He just drives me crazy. And what kind of man buys a girl he met only yesterday Dior perfume with a cost of over R2000.
When we left the store, we had his and hers matching paper bags, he finally got what he wanted. We then journeyed to Forever New, a store I only ever dream about going into. The dresses here a bloody expensive. 
“I know you girls like this store.” I looked up at him.
“It has the best clothes, but it’s so expensive.” He gave me his card, a FNB Private Wealth card. I almost screamed.
“Go crazy.” Even my father in his grave would’ve never done this for me. Never!
“Thank you.” I involuntarily gave him a tight squeeze and he hugged me back. He took the Dior bag from me and let me go inside alone.
Is this what it feels like to be in a blesser-blesse relationship, because if it is, I don’t want this to stop. I got two bags that I liked, a dress and a pair of heels. When I was at the till, he came to me.
“Is that all?” he asked looking at the things on the counter.
“Yes.” He put his hand around my waist and kissed my cheek for the second time today.
“Are you sure?” he nibbled on my ear, much to the casher’s irritation. I felt my skittles throbbing, something I have never felt from a mere whisper.
“Yes, I’m sure Ndabezitha.” I’m not, I saw this beautiful dress, but it costs R2000, and I will not by any chance be that girl who looks like a gold-digger.
“That will be R2630.” The casher said. He was the first to interject.
“That’s not enough, go take something else.” He said. Is he serious? I tried to protest.
“Amile go take something else.” It’s the first time hearing him calling by my name, it’s always MaGumede or Nkosazane.
I walked straight to the dress that I liked, took it off the rails and headed straight for the counter. I zipped my lips and she scanned it. The amount went up to R4730. He was satisfied so I put the card on the counter and just like that, I had spent so much money on just two dresses, bags and a pair of shoes. Must be nice having money.
When we walked out, I was shocked to see Yonela’s ugly man, the royal escort, walking towards us.
“Jama.” Nkosi said giving him all the shopping bags. I looked at him.
“Zulu, Nkosazane.” He bowed his head.
“We are going to one more store then we are done.” He nodded.
They did a handshake before he walked away. I felt my insides burn up.
“Let’s go.” He tried to hold my hand but I stayed glued to my spot. I swallowed hard, trying to find the courage to look at him in the eyes but I couldn’t. And just like a dream, I am standing in front of the Prince of Zululand.
“MaGumede?” he touched my arm, I froze.
“I want to go home.” I said softly.
“I thought we were still…” I interjected
“I want to go home. Now.” I felt tears stinging my eyes.
“Amile what’s wrong? Did I do something wrong, is it because I forced you to buy som…”
“What’s your name?” I interrupted him again.
“Nkosi, I told you.” I shook my head.
“No, your full name, I want your full name.” he saw the tears in my eyes, and he realized that he fucked up.
“Let’s go. We’ll talk in the car.”
People were now stopping and staring so he put on his shades, and we walked out the mall as quick as we could. He called his ugly guard, who I now know is Jama and as soon as we got to the entrance, the car was already waiting for us. He got out of the driver’s seat, opened the passenger door for me and I got in. Nkosi got in on the other side and we drove off, driving out of the mall like celebrities fleeing a scene flooded with paparazzi.
The tears cascaded down my face. I don’t know why I’m crying because I’m not a cry baby, but him being the prince, it changes everything.
“Why are you crying nkosazane, please don’t cry, you are making me weak.” His voice was begging, and he looked at me.
I wiped my tears with my palm and faced the front in silence. He sighed and we continued to drive in silence, only the sound of my sniffs were audible. I couldn’t control my tears at this point. We arrived in Durban North, back to his apartment and as soon as we climbed out the car, we found Jama waiting for us.
“Please take the shopping bags in the car.” He tossed him the car keys and he led me up to the elevator that took us to his cold loft.
He led me up the stairs to his bedroom and I followed behind him. The tears were at tame for a while, but I know that as soon as he starts talking, it will start again. One thing about me, once I start, I can’t stop.
“Come sit here.” He patted his side, and I shook my head no.
“How long where you going to keep it from me?” I asked trying to hold myself together.
“Amile come on.” My breathing hitched.
“Answer me Nkosi.” He sighed and rubbed his forehead.
“When we met yesterday, I knew that when you looked at me, you didn’t see me for my money or my title. You weren’t interested in Prince Mandlenkosi kaMhlabawesizwe Zulu, you were interested in Nkosi, the man you have the past few hours with. I didn’t want to jeopardize that; I didn’t want it to change.” I wiped the lone tear that escaped my eye.
“Do you know that this changes everything.” I said looking at him. I couldn’t meet his eyes anymore.
“It shouldn’t. Nothing should change Amile.” I hated my name when it came out of his mouth.
“You were bound to find out, sooner or later, it happened to be sooner…”
“You made me a fool.” I said lowly.
“I didn’t. I love you.” He blurted out. My heart raced. I looked at him and he looked terrified by his words.
“I warmed up to you, I let my guard down today and did something out of my comfort zone, I let you in. the least you could do is trust me with you identity.”
“And when were you going to tell me you are a pupil?” I went cold.
“Look Amile, I wanted you to know me for me, and not as the Prince of Zululand. That’s why I didn’t tell you, because for once I met a girl that didn’t know who I was, a girl who saw me as I was, as Nkosi, that’s how I want to be seen.” He drew closer to me. “I don’t care about you being a scholar, all these things, age, titles, status, they don’t matter. All that matters is what we feel and if you feel even the slightest bit of emotion for me, even if it is a single heartbeat when you hear my voice then please, give me the time of day. That’s all I ask of you.”
He held my forearms and used his index finger to lift my chin. He wiped my tears and leaned in to give me a soft peck, and that’s where he left it. Just a peck.
“Please.” He begged.
I wrapped my arms around his waist and laid my head on his torso and listened to his thumping heartbeat. I want this to be my home. He held me back and I guess our silence spoke for us.
^
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^
I begged him not to take me home, I don’t need my mom to shout at me for coming home with bags from Forever New and worst of all, being dropped of by a GLE. I can explain the clothes, the car, it’s another story. I also left the Dior back at his place, I can’t risk mom finding it, lord knows how much she snoops around. So I’m in the car with Jama, in the Golf 7. It’s no different from the GLE, it’s also fancy, but that can easily be explained, Siya also has a Polo, it’s something in my league.
“I’ve been running into you so much. I think this is the third time I’m seeing you now.” He said looking at from the rearview mirror, yes, I’m sitting in the backseat, that’s where Mr Zulu said I should sit.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were stalking me.” I said to him, and he laughed.
“Not at all. It was just a coincidence. I know I scared you in that Uber yesterday.”
“You knew you were wrong but turned it around and made it all about the driver.” He laughed.
“He was annoying me.” he defended, killing me with laughter.
“Why were you causing traffic anyway?”
“Your boyfriend was inside the mall, and we couldn’t leave without him. we had to block the entrance.” That makes no sense.
“Royal people are dramatic, and Nkosi isn’t my boyfriend, he’s my friend.”
“Yeah right.” he doesn’t believe me.
“Honestly. And my friend has a crush on you.” I told him.
“Angimfuni. Ubila too much loyamntwana. She’s a child, just like you.” I rolled my eyes. “Uyabona nje, ubungane bonke lobo.” He’s such a straight talker.
“Whatever Jama.” He became serious and glanced at me in the mirror once again.
“I’ve known Nkosi since we were kids, he’s my brother, the brother I never had. I’ve never seen him talk about a girl like this, especially a girl he met less than twenty-four hours ago. He’s already fallen in love with you and once he is in love, he loves hard. Please don’t hurt him.” he looked sincere. My heart thudded.
“I can’t promise that Jama, but I care for him too, and I want to give it a go. But it won’t be easy.” I said.
“Trust me, it won’t. I’ve seen so many girls leave, only the strong ones make it. The ones who get to meet the family also can’t put up with them. Getting to be liked by the family is the last step. They are brutal people.” He parallel parked next to my flat.
“And you think I will be able to deal with all of that. You are scaring me off Jama.” He chuckled.
“Don’t. Like I have said, I have never seen Nkosi like this. He will fight for you, no matter what. He will protect you, all you need to do is stay in his corner and let him protect you, forget about what they say about you or to you. Uze kuNkosi, ayi bona.” He’s speaking as if we have decided to get married.
“All in due time, for now, I want to enjoy his company.” He shook his head.
“You do that.” he switched off the car and climbed out.
He came to my side and opened the door for me and I climbed out.
“Thank you.” He went to the boot and took out my shopping bags. There was so many of them, they could’ve just packaged all my things in one bag, but they put them separately. Nice life problems Amile, that’s you now.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” I don’t know what he means by that, so I just nod and bid him goodbye.
I see the curtain to the lounge being opened and my mom’s head peeking out as I attempt to walk into the building. I’m late, it’s almost two o’ clock.
“Sakulindake ntombi.” She said as I walked into the lounge where she was standing. I sighed.
“You guys travel with guys who drive Golf 7’s with tinted windows now? Haibo Amile.” She’s judgmentally looking at the shopping bags.
“Who bought you all of those things?” I looked down at them and back at her, she’s not budging.
“I did, with the money from baba.” I said lowly.
“Forever New, so many shopping bags, with only R2000? What did you settle the bill with at Views at 25?” she asked putting her hands on her hips.
“We split it.” I mumbled.
“Shopping bags?”
“I used the rest of it for the shopping. There was a sale.”
“How did you get to Gateway, surely it must have cost a fortune, right.” I cleared my throat.
“Siya paid for the Uber” Why is mom putting me in such an awkward position?
“And you mean to tell me that Golf 7 is the Uber?” I nodded.
She shook her head in dismay.
“Go to your room, I’m going to fetch Siviwe.”
With my tail between my legs, I went to my room. I got there and as soon as I plopped myself on the bed, I called the girls.
“You hypocrite you!” Yonela was the first to bash me.
“Hey, don’t you dare, don’t you dare come for me. I tried to wake you up but you were to drunk to open your eyes.”
“That doesn’t mean anything, you didn’t even call us to check on how we were. We almost missed checkout and paid for that.”-Nambitha
“You can’t say anything to me because I woke you up and you told me to leave you alone. I told you where I was going, I was busy. I didn’t have time to be waking up girls who willingly decided to get drunk.”
“Who are you and what have you done to our Amile.”-Nambitha said and I laughed.
“Is it dick, is that what’s got you so high and mighty?”-Yonela.
“Just because you’ve had it, doesn’t mean I’ve had it too.” She laughed out loud. What’s a sisterhood without teasing?
“How did it go? Is he a bouncer or the prince?” I rolled my eyes thinking about how dramatic today was. I laid back on the bed with my knees up.
“No, he’s not the prince, he’s just an ordinary man.” I made a promise to Nkosi that I will not disclose any information about him, especially not now, but I’m not only doing it for him, I’m doing it for me too, so we can have a peaceful relationship while we can and enjoy what we have in private while it lasts. Jama is the only one who knows, and it’s going to stay that way.
“How old is he?”-Yonela.
“He’s twenty-three.” I lied again. Nkosi is twenty-eight. Born on the 31 of January.
“Oh, he’s young! Okay, so what did you guys get up to? Do you like him?”-Yonela
“We had breakfast and then he took me shopping.” I held my mouth, but it was too late, I had already blurted it out.
“Shopping? Where? Is he rich?”-Nambitha.
“Oh my goodness guys, so many questions. No, he’s not rich, he’s an average citizen, he just works. And just brought me a bag and shoes at H&M as a birthday present.” I hate lying to my friends, but I’d do anything to protect this relationship.
“And what about Siya?” Oh goodness.
“I don’t know, it’s not like I’m dating Nkosi already, we are just friends.”
“You said you love Siya.”-Yonela.
“I do.”
“But?” she asked. I froze.
“But I want to see where things could go with Nkosi.” She sighed.
Truth be told, what I felt today is ten times greater than what I have ever felt in the two years I have been with Siya, and I feel like a hypocrite for feeling like that.
“You are my friend, I support any decision you make, but remember, in whatever you do, Siyabonga is still my brother, and I will always choose him over everything.” That felt like a threat.
“Hhayi Yoni.” Nambitha exclaimed.
“Oath.” She said.
I risk losing a lot if I pursue this relationship with Nkosi. I foresee tough decisions ahead.